Genial poets, pink-faced br earnest wits— br you have given the world br some choice morsels, br gobbets of language presented br as one presents T-bone steak br and Cherries Jubilee. br Goodbye, goodbye, br I don’t care br if I never taste your fine food again, br neutral fellows, seers of every side. br Tolerance, what crimes br are committed in your name. br br br And you, good women, bakers of nicest bread, br blood donors. Your crumbs br choke me, I would not want br a drop of your blood in me, it is pumped br by weak hearts, perfect pulses that never br falter: irresponsive br to nightmare reality. br br br It is my brothers, my sisters, br whose blood spurts out and stops br forever br because you choose to believe it is not your business. br br br Goodbye, goodbye, br your poems br shut their little mouths, br your loaves grow moldy, br a gulf has split br the ground between us, br and you won’t wave, you’re looking br another way. br We shan’t meet again— br unless you leap it, leaving br behind you the cherished br worms of your dispassion, br your pallid ironies, br your jovial, murderous, br wry-humored balanced judgment, br leap over, un- br balanced? ... then br how our fanatic tears br would flow and mingle br for joy ...